Shanghai birders should consider buying Birds of Japan and Birds of Bhutan and the Eastern Himalayas. I served as proofreader of both books, published by Helm Field Guides. Keep Japan on your bookshelf or in your car as you bird the coast of China, and use Bhutan as your first reference in western Yunnan.

Authored by Mark Brazil, Birds of Japan follows Brazil’s 2009 opus, Birds of East Asia, the best field guide for the coastal provinces of China. Birds of Japan sees Brazil returning to his first love, Japan, where Brazil has been active since the 1980s.

Birds of Bhutan and the Eastern Himalayas, by Richard Grimmett, Carol Inskipp, Tim Inskipp, and Sherub, covers not just Bhutan but also the neighboring Indian states of Sikkim and Arunachal Pradesh. All border Tibet, and Arunachal Pradesh extends east to a point only 80 km (50 mi.) from the Dulong Gorge in Yunnan.

Japan and Bhutan each come with introductions to their regions, richly illustrated with maps and photographs. With its detailed “Where to Bird” section, Grimmett et al.’s 38-page opener is as thorough an introduction as a birder is likely to find to the eastern Himalayas. Brazil’s is less extensive but still does justice to a biogeographically complex archipelago that stretches 3000 km (1,900 mi.) from subarctic Hokkaido to the subtropical Ryukyus.

Japan and Bhutan repurpose much artwork from earlier Helm works, Japan drawing from Birds of East Asia and Bhutan from Birds of the Indian Subcontinent. There is, however, much that is new. In Japan no less than 18 new illustrations of White Wagtail are offered, 12 covering the three ssp. (leucopsis, ocularis, lugens) most common on the Chinese coast. Illustrations better than those in Birds of East Asia are provided for Chinese Egret and several species of duck.

Published nearly a decade after East Asia, Japan incorporates many of the ornithological advances made since 2009. For example, in East Asia Brazil incorrectly writes that the calls of Pale-legged and Sakhalin Leaf Warbler are indistinguishable, and the illustrations suggest that the morphological differences between the two species are appreciable. In Japan, Brazil describes the higher-pitched call of Pale-legged, and the new paintings convey more accurately the near indistinguishability of the species on plumage and bare parts.

To a China-based birder, Birds of Japan offers regional interest and usefulness in the coastal provinces, where it can serve as a backup and partial update to Birds of East Asia. Japan also provides a foretaste of a second edition of East Asia. “The publisher has expressed strong interest in a new edition,” Brazil wrote, “and I have the artist already lined up. I am just awaiting a contract” (in litt., 2019).

Bloomsbury touts Birds of Bhutan and the Eastern Himalayas as “the one guide you’ll need on a visit to this incredible corner of Asia.” Including the neighboring Indian states along with Bhutan was an inspired decision, broadening the scope of the book without diminishing its coherence and increasing its usefulness in the Himalayan regions of China. For birders in the Dulong Gorge and at Baihualing, Ruili, and other hotspots in western Yunnan’s Gaoligong Mountains, Bhutan can replace Craig Robson’s Birds of Southeast Asia. Bhutan has better species descriptions than Robson’s sometimes cryptically concise work, and its illustrations excel those in Robson.

Birders in other parts of China will find Bhutan useful. In Himalayan south Tibet, in particular Yadong, wedged between Sikkim and Bhutan, birders will do just fine with Bhutan and only Bhutan in their backpack. Bhutan will prove useful in regions east of Himalayan China, notably Sichuan, as well as on the Tibetan Plateau. In southern Yunnan (Xishuangbanna), whose avifauna is more Southeast Asian than Himalayan, Bhutan can back up Robson.

Like Birds of Japan, Bhutan includes recent ornithological breakthroughs, among them Himalayan Thrush, a species described in 2016 by Alström et al., and Bugun Liocichla, discovered in 2006 in Arunachal Pradesh. Other Himalayan specialties sought after by China-based birders, such as Sclater’s Monal, Fire-tailed Myzornis, and Beautiful Nuthatch, receive ample coverage in the species accounts and introduction of Bhutan.

China sorely lacks good bird books. On the Helm Field Guides bookshelf, there are gaps where works such as Birds of Sichuan and Yunnan and Birds of the Tibetan Plateau should be. Birders in China have long had to cobble together field-guide strategies, using as a major component field guides covering regions of Asia bordering China. One welcome development has been the increasing quality of those guides. Nowhere are the improvements more evident than in Birds of Japan and Birds of Bhutan and the Eastern Himalayas.

Do you own either of the books discussed in this article? Add your review in the comments below.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Brazil, Mark. (2019). Email to author, 9 August.

Featured image: Covers of Birds of Japan (2018) and Birds of Bhutan and the Eastern Himalayas (2019), published by Helm Field Guides/Bloomsbury. (Craig Brelsford)

Per Alström, Trevor Price, and Pratap Singh are studying song evolution in the leaf warbler family (Phylloscopidae). To understand how different song traits have evolved, the scientists plan to analyze vocalizations of all the species of leaf warbler and map their song parameters and calls on their molecular phylogeny.

The team is analyzing whole songs of all the species for size of song repertoire and singing variety. They need long song recordings, particularly for species having large repertoires.

For each species, Alström, Price, and Singh need 10 long recordings. They lack material for the following species:

Featured image: An international team of scientists is calling on birders to provide sound-recordings of leaf warblers. Pictured here are five of the species for which recordings are needed. Clockwise from top L: Sulphur-bellied WarblerPhylloscopus griseolus, Alpine Leaf WarblerP. occisinensis, Smoky WarblerP. fuligiventer weigoldi, Pallas’s Leaf WarblerP. proregulus, and Hainan Leaf WarblerP. hainanus. (Craig Brelsford)

Choose your level (USD)

Jon Hornbuckle saw 9,600 species of bird, more than anyone, ever. He was tough as nails. We were at Tangjiahe, Sichuan in May 2013. Our original five-man group was one short, but the park still wanted 10,000 yuan. Jon insisted on a prorated price of 8,000. The rep said no, and Jon said, “Tell her we’re leaving.” The rep gave in. Later, at the parking lot at the base of the mountain, the rep cheerfully announced that her boss had prepared a luncheon for us in a banquet hall nearby. “We’re not tourists,” Jon said.

We marched up the mountain, topping out at 2640 m (8,660 ft.). Jon matched us step for step. That night in the cabin, we were awakened by the hooting of Himalayan OwlStrix nivicolum. We searched with a flashlight but never saw the owl. Jon wouldn’t tick it; he had to see his birds. The next day, as I drove the team to Wolong, Jon said I was accelerating unnecessarily, and would I please stop wasting petrol?

At first, Jon’s intensity was intimidating; I had never met anyone so relentless in his pursuit of birds. As I got to know Jon, I discovered a softer side to the great lister. The world was his patch, and he explored it with the enthusiasm of a boy exploring the woods. To Jon, finding a new bird was like making a new friend.

In Xi’an I picked up Jon and his partners Dave Woodford and Phil Heath, the latter two world-class birders like Jon. We zoomed through Shaanxi and Sichuan on an itinerary that would have exhausted a much younger man. In the Qinling we ticked BlackthroatCalliope obscura, in Shaanxi we scored Crested IbisNipponia nippon, at Tangjiahe we found Przevalski’s ParrotbillSinosuthora przewalskii, at Wolong we saw Wood SnipeGallinago nemoricola, at Longcanggou we thrilled to Golden-fronted FulvettaAlcippe variegaticeps, and at Xiningzhen we eked out Silver OrioleOriolus mellianus.

After the trip, Jon and I maintained a friendly correspondence. He was among the first subscribers to shanghaibirding.com. On 6 July 2017, vacationing in the south of France, Jon was badly injured in a car accident. The accident damaged his memory, and he never recovered. Jon passed away on 19 Feb. 2018, age 74. He was a great birder, and he deserves to be remembered.

Did you know Jon? Tell your story by commenting below.

PHOTOS

Jon Hornbuckle photographing Grandala Grandala coelicolor, Balangshan, Sichuan, 22 May 2013. This photo shows Jon’s characteristic intensity. Even though we had just arrived at an elevation of 4480 m (14,690 ft.) and had not yet grown accustomed to the altitude, Jon saw the Grandala and bore down. (Craig Brelsford)Jon (C) stands with members of the team at Foping, Shaanxi after ticking Blackthroat. I’m the man with the black cap. I could hardly believe my good luck to be serving as interpreter and driver for the world’s champion lister. Blackthroat was our first of many triumphs on a whirlwind 14-day expedition that saw us range from Xi’an to Yibin in southern Sichuan. Throughout the trip, I observed Jon closely, discovering a man whose toughness was matched only by his tender love for birds. The men to Jon’s right are (L-R) Dave Woodford and Phil Heath. Our guide at Foping, Mr. Gong, stands at Jon’s left. (Craig Brelsford)Clockwise from top L: Jon (L) and Dave Woodford at Balangshan, Jon searching for Przevalski’s Parrotbill, and our team with the park staff at Tangjiahe. (Craig Brelsford)A master trip planner, Jon along with his partners devised an itinerary that netted us some of China’s most coveted birds. Top row: Golden-fronted Fulvetta Alcippe variegaticeps. Row 2, L-R: Blackthroat Calliope obscura, Crested Ibis Nipponia nippon. Row 3: Grey-hooded Parrotbill Sinosuthora zappeyi, Przevalski’s Parrotbill S. przewalskii. Row 4: Silver Oriole Oriolus mellianus, Wood Snipe Gallinago nemoricola. (Craig Brelsford)

Featured image: No human being has seen more species of bird than Jon Hornbuckle, shown here at Balangshan, Sichuan in May 2013. (Craig Brelsford)

This is some brief information for birders interested in birding Fuzhou National Forest Park, based on my trip there from 26 Feb. to 2 March 2019.

WHY GO?

While Shanghai’s Cape Nanhui is always an interesting place to go for birdwatching, there are times when the chances of something new showing up are a bit low. Time for a short birdwatching trip, maybe? And ideally one that does not involve flights, as those tend to be delayed in China? And one that offers a chance to see some species that one can never get in Shanghai, such as Red-headed Trogon or Silver Pheasant, or a variety of bulbuls? And maybe a place that in winter is warmer than Shanghai? Time to go to Fuzhou National Forest Park.

LOCATION

Fuzhou National Forest Park (26.151783, 119.295526) is in the hills north of Fuzhou, the capital of Fujian in southeastern China. The site is 595 km (370 mi.) southwest of Shanghai.

TRANSPORTATION

Fuzhou train station (make sure it is Fuzhou Fujian, and not Fuzhou South) is easy to reach by train from Shanghai Hongqiao. Fastest trains take fewer than four hours. Cost is just under 400 RMB per trip. A useful early train leaves Shanghai at 08:15 and arrives in Fuzhou a few minutes before noon. Taxis are available at the train station. For the return trip, there are several trains around 6 p.m. taking a bit longer (e.g., leaving Fuzhou at 18:11, reaching Shanghai at 22:47)—useful if you want to bird on the last day.

ACCOMMODATION

Though there are hotels in the park, they do not accept foreigners. The best choice is probably the Juchunyuan Ruichun Hotel as it is within walking distance of the park (about 20 minutes to the entrance). It is reasonably clean, rooms are large and lack style—ideal for birders. Cost about 300 RMB per night. They do offer half-day rentals at the end of the stay. Breakfast only starts at 7 a.m. though, too late for any self-respecting birder.

OPENING HOURS OF THE PARK

Officially, the park is open from 6 a.m. to 5:30 p.m., but in reality, it always seems possible to enter (there are several houses with people living inside the park, so a strict control would be difficult). Entrance is free.

FACILITIES IN THE PARK

There are toilets and several small food stalls selling drinks and cup noodles.

You need to walk around a lot to see birds—there are no hides and no ideal spots just to sit down and wait for birds. I found the middle part of the park the best to find birds, i.e., the trail marked by the triangles—but of course results may vary according to season. I have found the Qing dynasty postal trail to be good, and the slightly more remote mountainous trails somewhat disappointing.

PHOTOGRAPHY

Not that easy as there are no hides. However, some birds such as the trogons are probably less afraid of people than they are elsewhere. Better take a lens that is easy to carry, rather than a very heavy one. All the photos in this post were taken with my Nikon 500 mm f5.6, frequently with 1.4 TC. The quality is not quite as good as the bigger lenses but due to its low weight (1.4 kg), it is much better for walking around a lot (30 km on average per day) and hand-holding.

BIRDS

I saw 74 species in total, about 30 to 50 each day. For an idea of the birds that can be found in the park, see the eBird hotspot page: https://ebird.org/hotspot/L1562636

BEST TIME

It is generally a good idea to avoid weekends, as the park turns into a sort of outdoor karaoke place then (there is still some birding possible on the slightly more remote trails, just avoid the main paved road along the valley). As for the best month, I cannot really say, but eBird indicates the park is most visited by birders in January to March.

On 5 June 2014 on the Old Erlang Road in Sichuan, I photographed female FirethroatCalliope pectardens. One of the least-known chats in the world, Firethroat is shy, the female particularly so, and photos of the female are rare.

The photo above shows an adult female and not a first-summer male, as a first-summer male would have white flashes at the base of the tail (Round & Clement 2015, 86). We eliminate Firethroat’s sister species, BlackthroatCalliope obscura, on the basis of range (Blackthroat breeds farther north) and by the presence at the height of breeding season of male Firethroat in the area where I photographed the female. Note the legs, darker than the pale-legged female Indian Blue RobinLarvivora brunnea (Collar 2005, 747).

To acquire my shots, I spent parts of four days in a tent, my portable photo blind. The female first appeared on Day 2, but the definitive images came only in the final minutes of the final day. My partners, Huáng Xiǎo Ān (黄小安) and Jon Gallagher, commiserated with me at first and rejoiced with me at last, and for their cooperation I am grateful.

I embargoed the photos nearly five years before publishing them today. I held back because I was hoping to write a photographic field guide to the birds of China, and I was saving my most valuable photos for the guide.

The Old Erlang Road is an ideal birding location. The road, which used to be part of the Sichuan-Tibet highway but has been superseded by a tunnel, remains in serviceable condition. The lush forests are a stronghold not just for Firethroat but also for many other sought-after birds, among them Lady Amherst’s PheasantChrysolophus amherstiae and Streaked BarwingActinodura souliei.

MAP & PHOTOS

Firethroat breeds in the mountains of central China, as well as in southeastern Tibet and adjacent Arunachal Pradesh, India. The non-breeding range is poorly understood. There are records of Firethroat from Bangladesh, northeastern India, northern Burma, and northern Thailand (Alström et al. 2013, 96; Bunkhwamdi et al. 2015). Old Erlang Road is in central Sichuan, the heart of Firethroat’s breeding range. (Wikipedia/Craig Brelsford)I found the female at the bend in the road center-left. Her mate was engaged in a song-duel with another male on the opposite side of the road. Firethroat were singing at various other places along the Old Erlang Road, suggesting an appreciable presence of the species there. Coordinates of this site: 29.854737, 102.259133. Elevation: 2740 m (8,980 ft.). (Craig Brelsford)For four days I sat in my tent with my 600 mm f/4 lens jutting out. I was aware that I was making a major investment in a single species and that as a result I would miss other species on a road rich in birds. I reasoned that any birder could get a good haul there, but that it would be a service to birding to produce the definitive image of a rarely photographed species. (Craig Brelsford)This photo, taken 3 June, records the moment when I first beheld female Firethroat. Note the olive-brown upperparts, with an intriguing dash of slate on the back and scapulars; the rusty-buff flanks and undertail coverts; the lack of white in the tail; the white lower abdomen; and the plumbeous legs. This shot represented progress, but I wanted more. (Craig Brelsford)By 4 June, I had spent three days in the tent. Despite the enticement of the mealworms, the female could not bring herself to move beyond the periphery of the setup. (Craig Brelsford)Firethroat Calliope pectardens, adult female, 5 June 2014. In the final minutes of my fourth and final day, I achieved this perfect profile shot. (Craig Brelsford)Here’s another profile shot, this time of the left side. Note the slaty-blue hues on the breast-sides and abdomen. (Craig Brelsford)Compared to its sister species Blackthroat Calliope obscura, female Firethroat (above) is presumed to have ‘a paler, more contrasting throat, slightly warmer or more prominently rufous-tinged tail and paler, warmer, more buff (less deeply brown-washed) breast and flanks’ (Round & Clement 2015, 86). (Craig Brelsford)This male was almost certainly the mate of our female above. Note the slaty plumage from crown to rump, brownish-black wings, black face and neck-sides, white neck-patch, and white flashes on the base of the tail feathers. ‘This male is a first-summer,’ writes Per Alström. ‘First-summer males actually look like adult males except for browner remiges, primary coverts, alula and sometimes some (outer) greater coverts’ (in litt., 2019). (Craig Brelsford)As the days wore on, the male grew more and more at ease around my setup, often lingering for a minute or two before darting back into the undergrowth. (Craig Brelsford)On Sichuan’s Old Erlang Road in the first week of June 2014, at the height of breeding season, this male Firethroat was in the company of a female and singing powerfully. (Listen here to my sound-recording [2 MB; 01:18].) The elevation was 2740 m (8,980 ft.). I heard other Firethroat singing at altitudes as low as 2450 m (8,040 ft.). Most published descriptions of Firethroat have the altitudinal limit of the breeding range no lower than 2700 m (8,860 ft.). (Craig Brelsford)Calliope is a genus of East Asian chats known for the powerful songs of the males and cryptic coloring of the females and for their fondness for dense, damp undergrowth. The genus comprises Firethroat and four other species, three of which are pictured here. The type species and the one most familiar to birders is Siberian Rubythroat Calliope calliope, male top L, female top R. Blackthroat C. obscura (bottom L) is the species most closely related to Firethroat and one about which even less is known than Firethroat. It breeds in central China mostly north of Firethroat’s range. Chinese Rubythroat C. tschebaiewi (bottom R) breeds on the Tibetan Plateau in high-altitude thickets and scrub. Chinese Rubythroat was formerly considered conspecific with Himalayan Rubythroat C. pectoralis, not pictured. (Craig Brelsford)A ribbon connecting the Sichuan Basin and the Tibetan Plateau, Old Erlang Road is an outstanding birding location. The lush montane habitat supports an astonishing variety of birds, among them Claudia’s Leaf Warbler Phylloscopus claudiae (top) and Sichuan Leaf Warbler P. forresti (center L), two of the 10 species of Phylloscopus recorded along the road. Large Hawk-Cuckoo Hierococcyx sparverioides (bottom R) and Ashy-throated Parrotbill Sinosuthora alphonsiana (bottom L) are two of the many species on Old Erlang Road rare or absent on the adjacent Tibetan Plateau. (Craig Brelsford)

WANT TO GO?

China Dreams Tour (www.chinadreamstour.com) runs trips to Old Erlang Road and other hotspots in Sichuan. Book your trip by clicking on the image below.

Found at Shanghai’s Cape Nanhui on 1 May 2019: possible White-headed Yellow WagtailMotacilla flava leucocephala. The discovery by Haiming Zhao provoked excitement and uncertainty among Shanghai birders. Certain aspects of the wagtail, notably the pale mottling on its mantle, cast doubt on an identification of White-headed. “Those pale/odd-looking feathers are unusual for leucocephala,” said Gomboo Sundev, a bird-tour leader in Mongolia, where leucocephala breeds. “I have never seen such an individual of the subspecies in Mongolia” (in litt., 2019).

Beijing-based British birder Paul Holt also noted the anomaly: “I was surprised … by the Shanghai bird’s mottled mantle” (in litt., 2019). Per Alström, co-author of Pipits and Wagtails, called the pale feathers on the mantle and scapulars “puzzling” (in litt., 2 May 2019). Both experts noted the pale base to the lower mandible of the Shanghai wagtail, also unexpected in leucocephala.

Students of Yellow Wagtail will not be surprised by the uncertainty. The Yellow Wagtail complex is a “systematic conundrum”; the various subspecies of the complex often “defy separation under the biological species concept” (Tyler 2004, 689). Interbreeding of the various subspecies occurs “freely at overlap zones, producing fertile hybrids” (689), often making it the case that “the direct parentage of Yellow Wagtails cannot be deciphered” (725). There is furthermore the prospect of partial albinism, a phenomenon that can make other subspecies of Yellow Wagtail appear white-headed (Alström & Mild 2003, 80, 269, 282).

In the case of leucocephala, another reason for the uncertainty is the sheer lack of knowledge about the race, even among elite ornithologists. Holt describes White-headed Yellow Wagtail as a “poorly known subspecies” (2019); Alström says his experience with the race is limited to “a few specimens and only one live bird” (in litt., 7 May 2019); Sundev told me he has seen the subspecies only about a dozen times (2019). The lack of information forces even great birders such as Holt to speculate: “The million-dollar question is whether [the mottled mantle and pale basal half of the lower mandible of the Shanghai bird] fit within the range of variation in leucocephala, or are they suggestive or even indicative of less than thoroughbred genes?” (2019)

Why is so little known about leucocephala? The biggest reason is the remoteness of its breeding range. White-headed Yellow Wagtail breeds in sparsely populated northwestern Mongolia, at places such as Khar-Us Lake (48.083328, 92.541368) and Durgun Lake (47.673106, 93.451188) (Sundev 2019). Alström and Mild say the race breeds also in areas adjacent to northwestern Mongolia, such as the Tuva Republic of Russia and “probably … northernmost Xinjiang” (2003, 281). Even the wintering range is uncertain; Alström and Mild say leucocephala “probably winters mainly in India but the exact wintering grounds are not known” (281).

The verdict on the Shanghai wagtail? “I would say it is leucocephala,” Sundev said. Holt agreed: “I would think that these [a White-headed Yellow Wagtail found in Hong Kong in April and the Shanghai wagtail] are the first two records of leucocephala for the whole of eastern China.” Alström, however, was less than fully convinced: “I’m not aware of a leucocephala with such a pale-mottled mantle as the Shanghai bird—although I can’t say they don’t occur” (7 May 2019).

PHOTOS

L: The unusual Yellow Wagtail seen at Cape Nanhui, Shanghai on 1 May 2019. Note the pale mottling on the mantle. R: White-headed Yellow Wagtail Motacilla flava leucocephala, Mongolia. (L: Haiming Zhao; R: Gombobaatar Sundev)‘The encounter with the Western Yellow Wagtail was totally unexpected,’ said Shanghai birder Haiming Zhao, who discovered and photographed the bird. ‘The location where I found the bird is in a big area in Nanhui which has many trees newly planted. I came across this Western Yellow Wagtail when I went by this area searching for buntings. I was in my car looking at the ground 10-15 meters away to the left when I saw this special bird. Its bright gray head and yellow lower body were so eye-catching and had made it easily distinguished out there from a flock of eastern yellow wagtails on the ground’ (Zhao in litt., 2019). (Haiming Zhao)White-headed Yellow Wagtail on the breeding grounds in northwestern Mongolia. (Gombobaatar Sundev)

Tesla Gigafactory 3, the facility that you are building in Pudong, is next door to Cape Nanhui, one of the best birdwatching areas in China. Visionary Shanghai residents have attempted to establish a nature reserve at the Cape and had little success. Can you help?

Tesla’s new Gigafactory 3 is just 3 km inland from one of the most overtaxed coastlines in the world. As the latest exploiter of the resources of the Chinese coast, Tesla has a duty to counterbalance the impact its factory will have by helping establish a nature reserve at Cape Nanhui. The only coastal wetland reserve in mainland Pudong, a Cape Nanhui Coastal Wetland Reserve would preserve a natural area of indisputable worth, open up the world of nature to millions of Shanghai residents, and help erase the ecological deficit of Shanghai, a chronic environmental underperformer. (NASA/Craig Brelsford)

That we call to you for help is only natural, inasmuch as you sited your factory so close to the coastline of Cape Nanhui, the headland between the mouth of the Yangtze River and Hangzhou Bay and the most southeasterly point of Shanghai. The shape and location of Cape Nanhui make it a particularly important point on the East Asian-Australasian Migratory Flyway. Nanhui is, however, completely unprotected; not a square inch of the environmentally valuable coastline there has been set aside for conservation.

Indeed, in recent years, as a result of the development of Pudong of which your Gigafactory is a major part, Cape Nanhui has been sliced, chopped, dredged, drained, and abused. The transformation has been great, but not so much as to have robbed Nanhui of all its environmental value. The site remains highly worthy of rehabilitation and protection.

With its new factory almost literally casting a shadow over one of Earth’s most important coastlines, and as a new corporate resident of Pudong and neighbor to Cape Nanhui, Tesla has a clear duty and opportunity to help save Cape Nanhui.

Tesla should help protect Cape Nanhui for the following reasons:

(1) Cape Nanhui is of extraordinary environmental importance. The tip of the Shanghai Peninsula between the Yangtze River and Hangzhou Bay, Cape Nanhui is a stepping stone for birds migrating across those bodies of water. Cape Nanhui also holds large reed beds, critical to Reed Parrotbill and other species at risk.

A symbol of Shanghai, Reed Parrotbill is a highly charismatic and attractive bird. Nowhere do the people of Shanghai have a better chance of seeing this near-threatened species than at Cape Nanhui. (Craig Brelsford)

Critically endangered Spoon-billed Sandpiper and endangered Nordmann’s Greenshank use Cape Nanhui. Around 2 percent of the world’s endangered Black-faced Spoonbill are dependent on Cape Nanhui for several months each year. Large reed beds remain at Cape Nanhui and are the final strongholds on the Shanghai Peninsula of near-threatened Marsh Grassbird and near-threatened Reed Parrotbill. If the reed beds at Nanhui are destroyed, then the latter two species will virtually disappear from mainland Shanghai.

(2) When it comes to conservation, Shanghai is clearly underperforming. More must be done, and a good place to begin is Cape Nanhui.

Nature reserves have been established only on the extreme fringes of the city-province, which is larger than the U.S. state of Delaware. There are no reserves in mainland Pudong, a giant coastal district nearly twice the size of Singapore. Nowhere in the megalopolis can residents without a car enjoy the dramatic East China Sea coast of Shanghai, where Asia’s largest river meets the world’s most important migratory flyway.

(3) Because it is in the back yard of Shanghai, a city-province of more than 25 million people, a well-run, easily accessible wetland reserve at Cape Nanhui would light a fire of conservation across all China.

Shanghai birders at Cape Nanhui. These people are the Johnny Appleseeds of birding and nature appreciation in China. Though still few in number, they are nonetheless laying the foundation for a future in which more Chinese cherish the natural environment. (Elaine Du)

Hundreds of thousands of children could visit the reserve with their parents using nothing more than the Shanghai Metro and a quick taxi ride and be sleeping in their own bed that night, dreaming about the wild birds they had seen that day. For millions of parents and their kids, the weekend could be “Saturday, Disney; Sunday, Cape Nanhui Wetland Reserve.” A day at Cape Nanhui would be an early introduction to the glories of natural Shanghai and would foster appreciation of the natural world.

If Pudong New Area can be an economic powerhouse, if it can boast a Tesla factory along with its world-class airport and world-famous skyline, and if it can offer world-class entertainment such as Disney, then it can and must ensure world-class preservation of its priceless coastline and migratory birds.

I hope you agree, Mr. Musk, that the case for a world-class, easily accessible wetland reserve at Cape Nanhui is truly clear-cut.

Mr. Musk, you have both a responsibility to understand the environmental degradation that is occurring in Pudong and especially at Cape Nanhui, and an opportunity to be a leader in marrying commerce and conservation. Please tell us how Tesla proposes to do its part to help conserve your new neighbor, Cape Nanhui. Comment below or write to me (craig at shanghaibirding.com). I’ll make sure that the right people read your message.